by Joan Avery
“I don’t know. She is still quite ill. She was expecting a child. Did you know?”
“No.”
“The child was lost shortly after she lost her husband.”
“I’m sorry for that.”
“She asked me to bring this.” She reached into the pocket of her day dress and removed a clean linen handkerchief in which she had wrapped Emily’s wedding ring. She unfolded the white linen to reveal it. “It’s her wedding ring. She asked that it be buried with Edward. So he would know she forgave him.” Victoria was barely able to get these words out.
Lord Whitney took the ring and nodded toward the men who remained beside the coffin. They waited while the coffin was opened. He placed the ring in his brother’s breast pocket over his heart, patted it once, and stepped back.
The mortuary assistants closed the coffin and, using ropes, lowered it into the open grave. Christopher threw a handful of dirt on the coffin and looked to Victoria, who stooped, picked up some of the soil, and repeated the action.
“Lord, take this kind man into your bosom. Protect and forgive him. He was loved by his wife and family and deserves your kind regard.” Victoria’s words were barely above a whisper. Just loud enough to be heard by the only other person there who cared about this tragic man.
“Amen.” Lord Whitney replaced his hat and, taking Victoria’s arm, walked her slowly back to her carriage. “Thank you for coming. My brother would have been grateful for your presence.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Christmas Eve found Victoria at the door of the Percy home. She paused a moment before she rang the bell. She had been despondent the past few days. Emily continued to improve slowly, for which she was grateful. But this wasn’t the thing that worried her most.
What future was there for she and Hugh? Could she love someone who might strip her not just of her money, but of her value as a human being without ever questioning the very validity of the laws that permitted it? And if he ruled in her favor, how could she ever be sure their relationship hadn’t somehow influenced his court decision? That would be equally appalling.
Lord Whitney’s deception had nearly destroyed Emily. What if she were being deceived as well? Mislead by her feelings and his attentions?
No, it couldn’t be possible.
He was unlike any man she had ever met. Unlike any man she had ever hoped to meet. What was happening was so different from any of her previous experiences she’d had with men. Her schoolgirl crushes had been experimental and innocent. Her ex-fiancé a scheming, avaricious lecher.
Henry and Edith were lovely people. But she needed someone who was…she searched for a word…passionate. Blood rushed to her face. She told herself she didn’t mean physically. She meant politically and socially passionate.
She remembered their shared kiss on her doorstep. Her face warmed again. Perhaps she did mean physically passionate as well. For the first time since Emily’s tragedy, she smiled.
The door was answered by the butler with at least five small children in tow. The man did not look at all pleased by that fact.
“Please come in, Miss Westwood, Lord and Lady Percy are expecting you.”
The children whispered and laughed. Victoria carried with her a large basket filled with small packages of candy caught up in brightly colored fabric, which she had tied with ribbons. The children seemed to sense the presence of such a delectable offering.
“Children, children, get back in here at once.” Henry’s voice carried into the vestibule. The children, from barely walking to ten-year-old twins, hesitated. The older children looked to one another for direction. Finally, their father appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, it’s you, Victoria. Ignore this little bunch of heathens, and do come in. We are in the drawing room.”
Victoria followed Henry into the spacious room, where to her surprise, there was a beautiful evergreen tree adorned with apples and nuts and topped with a lovely gilt star. Handmade creations from the children added color and charm.
“Perfect timing! We have just lit the tree.” Edith rose to greet her.
Victoria smiled broadly.
“Children,” Edith addressed the small group that had surrounded Victoria, “this is Miss Westwood. Do say hello.”
A chorus of hellos followed along with a curtsy or two from the older girls and a bow from a boy of about eight.
“We are finishing our Christmas Eve celebration and then we are off to bed,” Henry said.
Victoria looked around the room. He wasn’t here. Her heart sank a bit. Perhaps he wasn’t coming. She shook off her disappointment.
“But first an introduction, Louisa and Edith are our twins. They are ten. Then Algernon who is eight, and Margaret is six. Victoria, who shares your beautiful name, is four, Josceline three, and Ralph William two. Have I left anyone out?”
Edith spoke up. “Only little Mary, but I presume she will join us shortly.”
Victoria laughed. “What a lovely group. I know you traditionally exchange gifts on Boxing Day, but since I am here tonight, I wanted to bring a little treat for the children.”
The children’s eyes grew wide with anticipation.
“How kind of Miss Westwood.” Henry directed this at his children. “I want all of you to sit. You must be patient and polite. No grabbing, no whining. Do you understand?”
Seven little heads nodded.
“And if you are good, I will read to you from our big book of Hans Christian Andersen. I think “The Fir Tree” would be appropriate for a night such as this.”
Victoria passed out her gifts to the seven children and joined Edith on the sofa.
After the gifts had been opened and consumed to the point where their father put a stop to it, they gathered on the floor before the ornate fireplace as their father pulled up a chair and began the story.
Victoria was very familiar with the tale. It reminded her of Christmases at home before her mother had died. How happy they all seemed, Henry and Edith and their brood. She smiled. Perhaps someday…
Beyond the children and the fireplace, Hugh stood in the doorway. A cherubic child in his arms. A smile on his face. And his gaze directed at her.
Her heart sang. She couldn’t remember when she had seen him so relaxed and happy. She prayed her presence accounted for a great deal of his happiness. She reveled in his perusal. Her cheeks heated, but she did not look away. They spoke without speaking. Loved without touching. She didn’t want it to stop.
Henry ended his reading of the story. Several of the younger children were rubbing their eyes, tired.
“Now you must all be good and go to bed. Ah, Hugh, there you are.”
“Lady Mary has come to say good night to her mother and father.” Hugh passed the cherubic child to her father.
Henry turned toward Victoria. “Miss Westwood, may I present Lady Mary Percy, our youngest, at least for the moment.” He laughed.
Several nursemaids, and a woman Victoria assumed was a governess, appeared in the doorway. The nursemaids took two children, one in each hand, and prompted them.
“Good night Father, Mother.”
Henry had taken a seat on the sofa on the far side of his wife. The children all dutifully came up and offered kisses, some a little tinged with the candy Victoria had given them.
Henry rose with the baby in his arms. “Say good night to your mother, Mary.”
The little one held out her arms and Edith took the child, smothering her with kisses until the child giggled uncontrollably.
She held the child out to the remaining young nursemaid. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I shouldn’t have excited her so, but it is Christmas Eve. Will you forgive me?”
The young woman took the ruby cheeked child. “Yes, my lady.” She bobbed a curtsy and smiled. “As you say, it is Christmas Eve.”
“Well, there you have it. All eight of them.” Henry Percy patted his wife’s belly. “By next Christmas who knows how many children we shall have?”
Edith
batted her husband’s hand away. “One a year is more than enough. I will have no figure at all after this litter.” She laughed. “Henry, please, tell Woodruff dinner can be served. And do blow out those candles before we set the entire house aflame.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dinner was served in the formal dining room. It had been decorated for the holidays and reflected the exquisite taste of its owners. The table had been set with fine Limoges china and gold flatware. The four place settings had been pulled together at one end of the beautiful table to give the large table a certain intimacy.
“I do hope you don’t mind being crowded together like this, but I hate to have to raise my voice to simply communicate.” Edith was helped to her chair by her husband.
Henry kissed his wife on the cheek before taking his own chair at the head of the table. “It is just the four of us, my dear. I won’t tell if they don’t.”
Victoria and Hugh sat beside each other across from Edith.
“I am thinking about installing a telephone in the house. The Duke of Westminster has done so and said it’s damned convenient.”
“Henry, please.” Edith warmly reprimanded her husband’s language.
“They’ve established a telephone exchange and everyone will have one in the next few years,” Henry said, ignoring the rebuke.
“Do you really think they will be used by anyone other than those who are interested in new technology?” Edith asked.
“I think Henry is probably right. The possibilities are very promising. How convenient it must be to pick up a telephone and almost immediately confer with someone.” Hugh supported his friend’s notion. “In America, as well as England, they have made great strides in this area.” He looked to Victoria for confirmation.
“I have to agree. I think in the next decade we will find them in many homes.”
Edith shook her head in dismissal. “Well, I don’t see that they are that much better than a telegraph or simply a note.”
The food arrived. First a lovely bisque, followed by goose and more than a half-dozen side dishes. Despite the formality of the dining room, Edith made sure the evening wasn’t tedious. “You’ll have to excuse us this evening. Several of the servants are away to visit their families for the holiday. Since it was just the four of us, I thought we could manage quite nicely ourselves.”
“It’s all very lovely,” Victoria commented. “I’m sure the servants will appreciate it. I’ve let mine go as well this evening, along with tomorrow and Boxing Day. I couldn’t bear to have them miss their families to stay and wait on just one person. The cook prepared food for me before she left.”
Edith nodded her agreement.
“Monty, what do you think of the Reverend Blackley’s proposal to establish some kind of old-age pension?” Henry asked seriously.
“I think we have to acknowledge that life is very different for those who don’t belong to our social class. Hardships abound. Despair is much more common. There is no reason why men and women should suffer needlessly in our country. We must change not just our laws but our minds.”
“Certainly there are organizations to care for those who need help. Who was that pawnbroker who organized the…?” He searched for the words. The Salvation Army, I believe they call themselves.”
“William Booth?”
“Yes, Booth. Isn’t it the place of our charitable institutions to take upon themselves those who lack the forethought to set aside enough for their later years?”
“I think when you are living in such a mean state during your working years, it is difficult, if not impossible, to set aside a few pennies for the future.”
“My God, Monty, you sound like a confounded socialist.” Henry laughed.
“I’m afraid I don’t deserve and haven’t earned that title. But certainly there must be something better than what we have. Something other than a reality that relegates a great part of our population to live their lives in hard labor without promise of relief. The same can be said about women. Perhaps their plight is even more difficult. Our laws cast them outside of our working government without even a say in how they are governed.”
“Ah, now you have touched upon an interesting subject. No doubt Victoria has an opinion or two on that.” Edith smiled warmly.
“I’m afraid I have made my views abundantly clear to Lord Montgomery. Perhaps I have shown a lack of discretion in doing so…” Victoria said.
“No, please no, Victoria. My friend here is nothing but a man of honor and duty. He would not let himself be swayed by anything but the cold, hard truth and the laws of England. Isn’t that so, Monty?” Henry further goaded. “The earl is a very forward thinking man. I think he would let women vote if it were in his power.”
“Enough, enough politics.” It was Edith who put an end to it. “It is Christmas Eve, and I shall forbid any more of this talk.”
The evening from then on was punctuated by a wide ranging discussion of everything from Gilbert and Sullivan’s latest play, H.M.S. Pinafore, to a recent art exhibition that featured the works of the new Impressionists.
The food was delicious and the wine flowed freely. For Victoria, it was the first time she had felt comfortable in England. The first time the country felt almost like her home. She was just beginning to see the possibilities England offered, although things might change dramatically in the next few weeks. Would she, like dear Emily, be forced back to America in poverty?
She looked over to the man beside her, who was in an animated conversation with Henry. Would there be a reason to stay if Stanford was successful in his suit?
Chapter Thirty-Five
The men left the dining room to smoke and have a brandy. Edith led Victoria back into the sitting room. The fire had been stoked, and it burned vigorously, giving off wonderful warmth.
“You like him, don’t you?” Edith settled herself on the sofa.
“Yes,” Victoria answered honestly. “But for now, it is impossible. Perhaps later. After the trial.” She warmed herself before the fire, enjoying its soft glow.
Edith nodded. “We haven’t seen him this way for many, many years. He is relaxed and smiling. You, I believe, are the reason.”
“How can you be sure?”
Edith smiled. “Because we have known him for so long. Because Henry and I know what happiness love can bring. Life is so difficult, sometimes, people break. Hugh broke many years ago. He never recovered when Cathy died. He blamed himself for not acting sooner. Not marrying her despite his father’s wishes. It would take an exceptional woman to lure him out of his self-imposed exile.”
“And you think I have done that?” Victoria walked over to Edith and sat beside her.
“As an American, you have brought something new to the relationship. You are outspoken and opinionated. While other suitors might be turned away by such a challenge, I believe Hugh has found these traits the very things other women lacked.”
“What was she like?” Victoria asked.
“Cathy?” Edith questioned.
“She was a sweet girl. Open and honest. She lacked any guile whatsoever. I think that’s what attracted Hugh.”
Victoria considered her own attributes and came up wanting. “I’m afraid ‘sweet’ would never be a word to describe me.”
“Yes, but you have the honesty and a certain passion which I think is the key to why he finds you so attractive.”
Victoria laughed in a self-deprecating manner. “I never expected we would share so many views and opinions.”
“You are very much like him in that. It’s sad this mess with Lord Stanford stands between you. Be patient, my dear. Be patient.”
The men returned to join the ladies. Had their conversation taken a similar course to hers with Edith? Both men appeared somber.
“I’m sure you have much to do for the holidays.” Victoria rose to go. “Your children are very precious. I envy you.”
“Please, don’t feel you have to go,” Henry said.
�
��I think I should. You will have two very busy days ahead of you. Are you going to Syon House?”
“Yes, we will leave tomorrow morning and stay for Boxing Day. Their grandparents dote on the children,” Edith said.
“Well, have a wonderful holiday.” Victoria placed a kiss on her new friend’s cheek before rising.
Edith then rang for the maid, who brought Victoria’s cloak.
“Shall I arrange for your carriage?” Henry asked solicitously.
Victoria laughed. “No, I didn’t take it. I walked.”
“Well you simply can’t walk home alone at this hour.” Henry shook his head at the impropriety. “Monty, do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Hugh nodded at the maid, who then left to get his coat as well.
In the street, Hugh took Victoria’s arm. “I hope you don’t mind. Henry is sometimes overly cautious about these things. He is old world enough to be shocked that you walked.”
Victoria laughed. “In America, I used to walk a great deal of the time. I think it was looked at by some Americans as improper as well. I fear I have made myself a pariah in both in New York and London.”
She stopped for a moment and looked at Hugh. “The Percys are lovely people.”
“Yes, they are. Their match has been a good one. I believe they love each other deeply.”
“Well if children are any indication…” She laughed again.
They continued to walk. She liked the feel of him beside her, liked the idea of him beside her. She never would have guessed she would find herself caring more about this man’s regard than the fortune she could lose if Stanford succeeded in his suit.
Everything was so complicated. They would just have to wait. There was no reason to pursue the relationship now. It would only serve to arm Lord Stanford with more ammunition that could be used against her.
…
Hugh was more than aware of her presence beside him. His whole body was alert to the fact. He railed against the feelings that threatened to overcome him. He would be a fool to engage in any behavior that would call his impartiality into question. And yet a fear of losing her, as he had Cathy before her, threatened to dismantle his good sense.
